The evening sun sank in the west.
Sun Wukong, dressed in an old hemp robe, walked with Sandu out of the desolate path and stepped onto the main road, arriving just outside Gao Village.
Everywhere around, the forests and mountains were alive with the chirping of birds; wisps of smoke rose from cooking fires, and paths wound around with cattle and sheep. They also saw chickens and pigs lying satisfied in the corners of houses, and tipsy old neighbors singing as they came along.
"If it weren't for the piercing ghostly aura, this place would indeed be mistaken for a hidden paradise,"
Sun Wukong murmured to himself, while Sandu listened and shook his head slightly, as if not convinced, yet knowing he couldn't win an argument with him, silently resumed chanting sutras.
They reached the mouth of the main street.
